


Angels to Watch Over You: Jo

by SmittyJaws



Series: Angels to Watch Over You [2]
Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (1963)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-08
Updated: 2014-02-08
Packaged: 2018-01-11 14:29:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1174183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SmittyJaws/pseuds/SmittyJaws
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A mini-series featuring the UNIT Family, and some otherworldly observers. Each story is a standalone one-shot, focusing on one character and one fanfic100prompt.  Story 2: Jo Grant; "038. Touch.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Angels to Watch Over You: Jo

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing but my own OCs, should I create any for these stories.

Jo Grant eyed the collection of figurines she had been bequeathed by her late aunt with distaste. Most of them were relatively normal; children reading, dancing bears, sailboats, and the like, but she had no idea what she was going to do with them. She certainly had no room in her tiny flat for them.

She supposed she could try to sell them, but her aunt had been very insistent in her will that the set remain together. Jo couldn’t understand why; there was no real cohesive theme to them, but if her aunt wanted them together, then together they would have to stay.

The only trouble now would be to find someone who would not only want them all, but would be willing to put up with some of the uglier figures in the set: scowling schoolteachers, some badly-done ones of policemen, a hunter holding up a stag’s head, and some inexplicable ones that looked like an odd cross between an angel and a demon, ready to lash out at someone. The last ones in particular made her feel rather uneasy, and she couldn’t help but wonder where her aunt had gotten those from, and _why_ anyone would want them.

Jo shuddered and let go of the figure of the little girl she had been touching, and turned away to start writing an advert for the collection. The sooner those figurines were out of her possession, the happier she would be.


End file.
